


Road Map (Philly to Hartford / I-95)

by Raven17



Series: Road Map [1]
Category: Professional Wrestling
Genre: First Time, I-95, M/M, Oral Sex, Road Map, Seth Has a Potty Mouth, gratuitous use of the word fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 00:50:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3549956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven17/pseuds/Raven17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth and Dean drive to Hartford after the Royal Rumble.  They're no strangers to taking comfort in one another, but there are first times for everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Road Map (Philly to Hartford / I-95)

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably write more in this universe, but no guarantee. 
> 
> The Royal Rumble set the backdrop, and the winter storm that resulted in the cancellation/rescheduling of RAW in Hartford the Monday afterwards inspired this.
> 
> Yes, they probably did fly from Philadelphia, but... creative license.
> 
> I don't own anything.

“I just want to get to the hotel so I can go to bed.” Seth groused as he yanked at the driver’s side door of the car they’d rented to drive to Connecticut after the Rumble. “Fuckin’ suplexes…”

“And the table spot.” Dean added quietly, tossing his bag in the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat. 

Truth be told, he wasn’t sold on Seth driving, but Seth had insisted he was fine to drive—and he had the keys. Possession was nine-tenths the law, or so Seth had told him, and he wasn’t about to fight him for the keys. They’d both been banged up—such was the life they led—though Seth moreso than Dean, and even if Dean was sure he’d win a fight for the keys (he would), he didn’t want to be the cause of Seth being in any more pain than he already was.

“You had to remind me. What was I thinking?” Seth jammed the key into the ignition and fired up the engine, flipping switches and turning dials on the dashboard until an angry screaming voice and unnecessary bass filled the car—Seth’s idea of music—and heat started pouring from the vents, easing the chill in the air. “And what are they thinking, telling us to drive to Connecticut? They fucking fly us everywhere else.”

“We could have left in the morning.”

“We’d have had to get up at four, Dean.” He sounded like a parent explaining something to a small child. “This storm is supposed to be the real deal. They’re already telling people to be off the roads.” He glanced over his shoulder before backing up, the tires making a slight screech as he jerked forwards too quickly, peeling out of the arena parking lot and heading towards the interstate. He gave Dean a small smile. “And what are you bitching about anyway? You get to sleep.”

“Told you I’d drive, asshole.”

He had. But again, Seth had insisted. Something about not trusting Dean to get them there in one piece. Nevermind Seth was barely in one piece after his match at the Rumble. What was he thinking was right. Dean’s heart had leapt to his throat when Seth had taken the leap off the turnbuckle to do the elbow drop onto the laid out Lesnar.

Dean pushed the passenger seat back as far as it would go, throwing his right forearm over his face after hauling the hood of his hoodie up. 

He woke up when Seth kicked the volume up on the stereo and opened a window, the blast of cold air and screeching of death metal each a rough and unwanted jolt into consciousness. “…the FUCK, asshole!?!”

“Gotta stay awake.”

“We could have left in the morning like normal people.” Dean snapped. “Or you could pull the fuck over and we could get a hotel room. Since you don’t know how to let someone else drive!”

“I know how to let other people drive, Dean. Just not you.”

“I know how to let other people drive, Dean.” Dean mimicked in a higher pitched snipe.

“Put a coat on. And you’ve got headphones.”

“Where the fuck are we, anyway?” Dean adjusted the seat-back to a more upright position after fumbling for his leather jacket and a bottle of water from the back seat.

“Uh… New York?” Seth squinted to look at highway signs as they sped past at about eighty. “Yeah… just saw a sign for Yonkers. Left. Bronx River Parkway.”

“Cute. You actually sound like you know where you are, Rollins.” Dean yawned. “Can’t you turn this shit down? And close the fuckin’ window, it’s a fuckin’ icebox in here for Chrissakes!”

Seth closed the window about half-way, but didn’t make a move to lower the volume on the stereo. “Told you, I have to stay awake.”

“Bet I could keep you awake.”

“Go back to sleep, Dean.” Seth shifted uncomfortably in his seat and rolled his neck before carefully lifting one shoulder, then the other. “I’m seriously not…” He broke off and grimaced as he twisted to check traffic before changing lanes—unnecessarily, as there was no one else on the road at ass-past two in the morning. He glowered at Dean, “…not in the mood for any of your games. I’m tired, and I’m fuckin’ hurt…” He yawned and put the window back down all the way, shaking his head and blinking at the cold breeze.

“Could make you feel better, too.” Dean interrupted cheekily.

“What the fuck do you have in mind, Ambrose?” Seth’s curiosity was winning out over his concern, and if Dean was right, and it could help him feel better… His entire body was stiff, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers at the Mariott in Hartford, but they were still out in the middle of bumfuck New York and at least another… two hours? away from their destination. He was tired and hurt and just desperate enough to entertain whatever crazy idea Dean had come up with.

“You don’t even have to do anything.” Dean continued, his hand snaking its way across the console and onto Seth’s thigh.

“No?” Seth raised an eyebrow as he glanced sidelong at Dean, whose hand had now found its way between Seth’s legs, and was palming his cock through his pants.

“Just keep your hands on the wheel, Rollins.” Dean smirked, unzipping Seth’s jeans and unfastening the button with a quick flip of his thumb. He slid his hand inside of Seth’s jeans, pleased to find that Seth’s cock had already taken a keen interest in the proceedings.

It wasn’t as if they’d never done this before. After spending so much time with one another, it had almost happened as a matter of course one night after a particularly rough match. Roman’s girlfriend had been in town and he’d gotten a separate room at the hotel to be with her, and Seth and Dean had found comfort with each other’s hands and some hotel-provided lotion. 

And it had happened since, usually after hard-fought matches, once or twice out of sheer boredom. It had never gone further than hurried hand jobs in private, had never been mentioned thereafter.

Dean continued stroking Seth’s cock to full hardness, carefully working it out of Seth’s boxers, noting how Seth’s hands tightened at ten and two on the steering wheel on the upstroke, how he straightened in his seat when he flicked his thumb over the slitted tip, spreading the beading wetness down Seth’s shaft. 

When Seth’s cock stood at full attention, he moved his hand to turn the volume on the stereo down, down enough where the air slicing through the open window was louder than the bass of the music. Seth snarled but let it be, and when Dean made no move to return his hand to his dick, raised the window half-way with a sigh and a withering gaze at Dean. 

Dean let his fingers slide up the length of Seth’s cock, idly fingering the smooth skin, enjoying the feel of heat and soft and hard… Seth glowered after a while, knuckles whitening against the steering wheel. Dean chuckled and moved his hand from Seth’s cock long enough to shift in the seat and bend over the console until his face was in Seth’s crotch. “…and keep us on the road.” He added, before taking Seth in his mouth.

Seth’s entire body twitched in his seat, his foot letting up pressure on the gas for a split-second, his hands jerking on the wheel, sending them in a sharp swerve between lanes, and his breath catching between sore ribs. 

This was new. Different. They’d never done this before. “Fuck, Dean!” His fists clenched and unclenched around the steering wheel as Dean’s mouth settled again, warm and wet on him, lips parting obscenely wide to slide along throbbing heat, down to his balls.

Dean lifted his mouth at the weaving of the car. “I said to keep us on the road, jackass.” He gave Seth a smirk.

Seth would have snapped back a reply, but Dean’s mouth was already sinking back down, hot and slick over his throbbing cock, lips dry and slightly scraping, a contrast to the smooth slide of the hollowed insides of his mouth. 

Dean curved the flat of his tongue around the shaft, starting a gentle and rhythmic suction as he did so. A soft exhale through his mouth cooled heated skin, made Seth’s hips lift slightly from the bucket seat, jerk forward, deeper into Dean’s welcoming mouth. 

“Jesu…” Seth’s voice was strangled and he broke off as he slammed his head back against the headrest just as his hips thrust forward again, trying to get deeper into his friend’s mouth.

Dean’s lips curled into a smirk and he mumbled around the thickness filling his mouth. “D’ns f’n…”

“Shut up and keep sucking, bitch.” Seth’s right hand finally moved from its deathgrip on the wheel into Dean’s dirty blond hair. Dean’s hair was oddly soft, like threading his fingers through silk, a stark contrast to the rest of him—hard muscle and corded tendons, coiled and ever-ready for action. He gentled his grip, pulled less and soothed/smoothed more, but still forced Dean down on his cock.

And there… was Dean purring? A soft humming came from Dean as Seth let his fingertips trail idle patterns against Dean’s scalp.

Dean relaxed his throat, careful not to let Seth activate his gag reflex as he thrust deeper, holding Dean’s head in place with what was a strangely gentle touch. Seth’s fingers idly combed through his hair, and he began sucking in earnest, seemingly able to tell that Seth was close, desperate to come.

“Jesu… FUCK, DEAN!” Seth screeched when Dean reached between his legs with one hand, deft fingers lifting his balls from the seat, rolling, squeezing, sliding before one fingertip pressed against his hole. Seth’s foot spasmed against the pedal, and he fought to keep the car in the lane they’d been in for the last few miles as the car lurched.

Dean flicked his finger against the inside of Seth’s thigh, not as sharp a sensation as it might have been on bare skin, but enough.

“I know… I know… keep us on the ro…” Seth’s arms straightened nearly ramrod straight as he pushed his back into the chair, head arching back. “…FUUU...” He lifted his hips, shoving at Dean’s mouth when Dean’s lips slid up his shaft, cold air brushing over his groin. “Jesus FUCK Dean!”

Dean let Seth’s cock slide from his mouth with a very wet, very obscene ‘pop’, strings of saliva mixed with Seth’s pre-cum drooling from swollen lips. “You have to come, Seth?” He asked, the corner of his mouth curling into a knowing smile that made Seth almost want to punch him.

The cold against Seth’s erection was numbing, but it didn’t ease Seth’s desperation. He slammed the hand from Dean’s hair back against the steering wheel. “Dean just… fucking… YES! I want to come, Dean!”

Dean blew across the tip of Seth’s weeping cock, watching as it twitched, the material of his boxers wrinkled and tucked down beneath his balls. Seth’s hips came up off the seat again and he shifted uncomfortably, bringing the same hand that had just slapped at the steering wheel down to his lap. Dean slapped at his hand. “I said to keep us on the road, Sethie.” Dean’s breath was almost warm against his dick now that the arctic air had swept through the half-way open window to between his legs.

Seth replaced his hand on the steering wheel, gritting his teeth as Dean palmed his still painfully hard cock, thumb pressing almost roughly across the sensitive head. “Deeee…” He keened as he held to the steering wheel too-tightly, keeping right on CT-15 as they made their way out of New York State.

Dean’s hand moved from between his legs to clamp down on his thigh as he lifted his hips again. “Shhh…” Dean murmured. “Easy there, Rollins… I’ll get you there.”

“…takin’ your sweet-ass time, motherfucker.” He shifted against the seat, causing his dick to brush against Dean’s lips. 

Dean parted his lips, let Seth’s cockhead press against the smooth front of his teeth before opening his mouth, sliding the edges of his teeth gently down… down… down… until his nose was again in Seth’s boxers, his lips around Seth’s base. He moved his hand, less gently this time, around Seth’s balls.

“Fuck… FUCK, Dean, come on man!” Seth’s entire lower body coiled, muscles tensing as Dean slid one finger close to his hole, pressing against the ring of muscle. “FU—FUCK!!!”

Dean hollowed out his cheeks as he started sucking in earnest, finger still teasing at Seth’s entrance. Seth let one hand fall from the steering wheel into Dean’s hair, fingers again tangling in dishwater blond curls, and his head fell back against the headrest as he fought to keep his attention on the road. God but Dean was making it hard.

And when his finger pushed past that ring of muscle, just the very tip of his finger, and Dean’s mouth held the suction on his cock, Seth came, shooting thick ropes of cum deep into Dean’s throat, hips jerking against Dean’s face. “FU…UCK DEAN!!! JESU… FUCKING CHRIST DE…”

“Jesus…” Seth exhaled after his orgasm passed, his entire body going boneless into the driver’s seat, his aches and pains seemingly disappeared though he knew they’d be back, and with a vengeance, the moment he settled into his hotel room and tried to sleep. “Fuck, Dean…”

Dean let Seth’s spent cock slide from bruised and raw lips, carefully tucked him back into his pants and zipped the zipper, leaving the button undone. He smiled in self-satisfaction as he leaned back in the passenger seat, catching a glimpse of the exit sign for Meriden. Hartford, 22 miles. Not much further now.

Seth cast his eyes to the side to glance at Dean, glad to see the half-grin on Dean’s lips, the way his friend’s eyes slipped half-closed as he leaned into the passenger seat. He reached to turn the volume up on the car stereo, but a soft smile tugged at his lips as he looked at Dean, and he put his hand back on the wheel and his eyes back on the road.


End file.
